Rita!
Last June I was newly freed of jaw wires, scraping the bottom of my barrel called Energy, frantic to stop my weight loss.
I’m not normally a quick convert to programs described in NYTimes Bestseller Books. But this time I was out of solutions. So I cast myself upon simple yet stringent requirements for Turning My Life Around, as prescribed in one of those NYT BBs.
Every morning, without fail, follow this simple discipline. Read the rest of this entry »
Annie Wright Schools Kindergarten — Tacoma, Washington in the 1940s
It’s 1948. I’m in kindergarten in El Monte, California. I love kindergarten. I love my kindergarten teacher. I adore rest time!
The routine is always the same. Rain or shine. At the appointed time, each of us picks out a brightly painted plank of wood – blue, green, red or yellow.
I carry my red plank to the middle of the room, find a little space between classmates, put the plank on the hardwood floor, and lie down on my back, on my make-believe bed.
I also shut my mouth and close my eyes. Until it’s perfectly silent, my kindergarten teacher won’t begin the fun part. Read the rest of this entry »
The votes are cast; the election is over. I feel lost. Not because of changes in me, but in my context. Who am I now? Which way will I go? What about tomorrow?
I want to plead with God for a different outcome. But heaven is silent. The votes were cast, and the election is over. Read the rest of this entry »
I grew up believing the Bible would teach me to be a good girl. The other option? Ignore the Bible and grow up to be a bad girl. I just needed to read the Bible, study it, and take it to heart.
Maybe I’m trying to split a hair, but I don’t think being ‘good’ is the same as being ‘wise.’ Many ‘good’ girls grow up to be like fools. Not all the time, and not by choice. Sadly, they weren’t encouraged to learn the meaning of wisdom—not just as an idea, but as a way of life. Read the rest of this entry »
Her bespoke face
Betrayed no provenance
No signature or style
Save those life etched within each line
each scar and curve of chin and cheek
No sign of props placed here and there
To hold it all in space
No awkward look or heavy paint
To dazzle or illuminate
Just a canvas standing there
With pleasant eyes of burning depth
and mouth with upturned corners
Quite suddenly she smiled at me
And said hello-how-are-you?
One of a kind I see – said I –
With hat tipped to my Maker.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 13 December 2016
Response to Daily Prompt: Bespoke
See definition of bespoke here.
It’s bleak. Outside and inside. Cold, damp weather. Unpredictable tears. Aches and pains. Low energy. Missing my family members. Worldwide tragedy and political uncertainty. You get the picture.
As always, music helps me refocus when I hit low spots. Last night Read the rest of this entry »
Yes, it’s Emily’s 154th birthday anniversary today! I’d hoped the Google Gang would mark the day with one of their short and fancy celebration videos for all us Googlers. Too bad. They missed their chance.
I barely know Emily. Read the rest of this entry »
From the moment I saw the daily prompt, I couldn’t get it out of my mind: Abide. One of those old-fashioned words I learned early in life. Not in school, but from singing a beloved old hymn over and over, “Abide with me.”
Stay with me. Dwell with me. Don’t leave me alone. I need your presence, especially now.
Is it my age? Possibly. But it’s more than that.
It’s Advent. I can’t get out of my mind the image of Jesus coming to abide then and now with us as human beings. Especially in times of distress, change and upheaval. A baby comes to abide with a family he didn’t choose and never met before birth. As a young man he gathers a group of children, women and men, perhaps hoping they’ll abide with him until he meets his end. Indeed, one of them promises never to leave him. And yet….
It isn’t just that I feel better when someone abides with me. It’s that I don’t want to be abandoned in this life. At any point along the way, and especially at the end. Anyone will do. Anyone who will abide with me, even for a little while. Jesus understands this longing, this need for other people willing to be present, to remind us physically that we’re not alone. Especially, but not only during hard times.
And so this old hymn resonates for me. There’s One who is already there for me up to and beyond my farewell to this earth. My head knows this. My heart yearns to see what I cannot see. Touch what I cannot touch. And so I sing….
Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day,
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away,
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me.I need thy presence every passing hour;
What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee:
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.Amen.
Words: H. F. Lyte, 1847
Music (Eventide): W. H. Monk, 1861Text copied from The Hymnal of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of American, published by The Church Pension Fund 1940, 1943
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 10 December 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Abide
All my life I’ve lived under a shadow of silence. I don’t even know what to call it. It was my hiding place. A gigantic dark place. A cloud of thunder and lightning. Winds whipping trees in the night. Holding my breath until I thought I would burst. Watching my back lest I be caught unawares.
I began this blog because I wanted to find my voice. Not my professional voice, but my personal voice. It peeked out from time to time, but quickly retreated when challenged or under threat. I loved my voice, but I didn’t yet treasure it. Nor did I see it as a treasure.
I’ve been blogging for nearly three years. At first Read the rest of this entry »
How’s your imagination? Here’s a riddle from Emily Dickinson. Can you guess the answer? Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 